Dancing in the Sun


                                            THIS IS NOT EQUESTRIAN HISTORY AS IT IS TOLD


                                            >Over the vast, ever-expanding canopy of the Everfree Forest, a violent maelstrom had been raging for two days straight.

                                            >As with all weather phenomena within that cursed wood, it was wild and untamed, and unbelievably dangerous as a result.

                                            >Its gale-force winds shed trees of their bark, its torrential rain turned the ground into an impassable muddy quagmire, and its erratic bolts of lighting were liable to turn entire sections of brush to ash in an instant.

                                            >Of course, nestled deep within the forest at an undisclosed location and constructed from the outset with such conditions in mind, the aptly-named Castle of the Two Sisters was weathering the storm just fine.

                                            >It manifested to the denizens as a constant chatter of heavy raindrops splattering on the windows and mildly startling cracks of thunder, at worst.

                                            >On that particular night, as a matter of fact, it was far more liable to be torn to pieces brick by brick from the inside by a panicked alicorn.

                                            >Said alicorn wasn’t Princess Celestia, of course.

                                            >The young (by alicorn standards, at least) solar shepherd was, for her part, perched upon her designated throne with near-picturesque royal posture, sipping delicately at an expensive oolong number.

                                            >She held her air of regal stoicism even as a smear of navy blue darted past, clearing the tips of her ears by mere inches and pulling her rosy pink mane from one side of her head to the other.

                                            >Crashing slams of doors opening and closing violently echoed down the hall to her left, drowning out even the ferocious din of the thunderstorm.

                                            >She sighed, rolling her eyes and checking the enormous golden clock strategically hung above the throne room’s entrance.

                                            >Going on 45 minutes of that racket.

                                            >Celestia took another sip, ruminating for a moment on the walking contradiction that was her sister.

                                            >How could one so intrinsically tied to the calm peacefulness of the night be so high-strung?

                                            >Astral magic had a strange sense of humor.

                                            >The loud thuds stopped abruptly - likely as the culprit reached the end of the hall - and the indigo blur raced back into the room a few seconds later, skidding to a halt on the polished slate tiles before the twin thrones.

                                            >Princess Luna, shepherd of the Moon and other half of the Equestrian diarchy, nervously trotted in place, rapidly darting her head to and fro as if what she was hunting for might magically appear if she viewed every angle of the area at once.

                                            >Her demeanor vaguely reminded her older sister of a lost foal searching desperately for the little filly’s room.

                                            >”WhereishewhereishewhereishewhereishewhereisheWHERE IS HE?!?!!”

                                            >Celestia’s teacup rattled perilously as the other alicorn’s voice peaked, and she quickly set it down on her hoofrest to avoid any potential splash should it shatter.

                                            >It certainly wouldn’t be the first piece of priceless china destroyed by the traditional voice of Canterlot nobility.

                                            >Safe from any threat of the inky-black tea staining her pearly coat, the Sun princess cleared her throat and put on a smug smile masquerading as a helpful one.

                                            >”Have you checked the organ room, perhaps? He’s told me how he does so love to lounge there from time to time.”

                                            >Luna’s ears perked up, hopeful excitement working its way into her tone.

                                            >”Oh yes, indeed! The organ room! It is the only place I have yet to-”

                                            >She stopped mid sentence, face darkening, and slowly turned to glare at her older sister.

                                            >The white mare winked and stuck her tongue out.

                                            >She knew that the smaller princess absolutely LOATHED being reminded of that stupid old booby trap pipe organ collecting dust in the castle’s basement.

                                            >It was like she’d taken up a dare to see exactly what idiotic lengths the palace craftsponies would go to on her word alone.

                                            >The younger alicorn maintained the glare as she puffed out her chest and flipped her light blue mane indignantly, advancing up the small flight of stairs leading to the thrones with accusatory purpose.

                                            >”And what exactly are YOU so nonchalant about, sister? I have been running myself RAGGED for the better part of an hour, TRYING to find hide or hair of our Equestria Games representative - whom I might add, YOU unilaterally selected without consulting me even ONCE - all while you have done naught but sit there and dutifully drain our oolong reserves like some stuck-up old noble hag! Does it not concern you slightly that your oh-so-special competitor is nowhere to be found mere hours before we are set to depart?”

                                            >A deep inhale and emphatic exhale followed the tirade, its speaker staring holes in her sister with expectant anger.

                                            >Celestia, for her part, merely cocked her head at her frazzled fellow princess.

                                            >A warm orange glow enveloped her teacup, and it floated its way in front of her muzzle.

                                            >”I am truly sorry, Luna, but I can’t say I’m entirely sure what you’re concerned about.”

                                            >She took a slow and painfully-audible sip, making sure to smack her lips a few times as she looked up at the ceiling with fake pensiveness.

                                            >Placing the teacup and saucer on the hoofrest once again - and scooting to the opposite side of her throne for good measure - she spoke as if thinking to herself.

                                            >”I mean, I’ve known where he is for the past two hours or so.”

                                            >She raised a wing to her face and formed a perfect O with her mouth in a practiced expression of mock comprehension.

                                            >”Oh dear, is THAT what you’ve been stressing about this whole time? My mistake, I should have told you!”

                                            >Luna’s eye twitched involuntarily.

                                            >Like so many before them, the fine porcelain cup and saucer quickly became worthless carpet sweepings in the face of the Royal Canterlot Voice.

                                            —

                                            >”I do not get it, Tia.”

                                            >The two princesses, flanked on both sides by a line of three guards, walked side-by-side through the halls of their castle at a leisurely pace.

                                            >Well, a leisurely pace by Celestia’s standards, anyway.

                                            >Luna, lacking in stature as she was, had to take nearly a pace and a half for every one of her larger counterpart’s.

                                            >”Don’t get what, Luna?”

                                            >She was, of course, fairly certain about the nature of her sister’s confusion, but elaboration never hurt anypony.

                                            >The younger princess clicked her tongue, thinking how to phrase her question before posing it.

                                            >”Why make use of HIM? I know that we scarcely have a choice now, with the Games so close at hoof, but why did we not in the first place choose… well…”

                                            >She bit her lip and rubbed the back of her neck with a wing.

                                            >”A pony? Commander Hurricane or Starswirl, perhaps? Those two have served us well as champions for this very event in the past, so why not call on them once more?”

                                            >Celestia lowered her head and peered at the tiles passing under her hooves, wing rubbing her chin as she considered her response.

                                            >She remained thus until the small party came to an intersection, where she raised her head and gestured left, then began to respond.

                                            >”Well, not to be so cold-hearted as to insinuate they’ve outlived their usefulness for the role, but it’s undeniable that the Commander and Starswirl are both getting up there in years. Besides, they are no longer the starry-eyed idealists waiting on our beck and call that they once were. They both have many obligations to tend to, and it would be cruel and self-serving to pull them away from those obligations on such short notice.”

                                            >Luna gave a sagely nod of understanding.

                                            >”Yes, I suppose I failed to consider that aspect. Still, though, we have many capable guards whose very duty it is to be called upon, and many more citizens among whom lay diamonds in the rough. Surely they could have been entered, instead?”

                                            >The formation passed under an arch, whereupon they suddenly found themselves crossing a vast interior courtyard under a vaulted dome of a ceiling, the sound of metal-shod hooves echoing around the space.

                                            >”My considerations on that front, dear sister, are twofold.”

                                            >Celestia raised a wing emphatically, curling in all but one primary feather.

                                            >”One: optics. The underlying purpose of the Equestria Games is and always has been to prove the strength and loyalty of those willing to follow you as a ruler. After all, absent of that aspect, most self-proclaimed kings and queens would simply enter as competitors themselves.”

                                            >She directed a scheming grin towards her sister.

                                            >”Imagine, then, how it will look to present an equally-committed entrant of an entirely different species and background than ourselves.”

                                            >A twinkle of inspiration reached Luna’s eye, but she still retained a skeptical expression.

                                            >”I see. And the second consideration?”

                                            >Celestia unfurled a second feather on the same wing.

                                            >”Two: the nature of this particular Equestria Games.”

                                            >The Sun princess’ muzzle scrunched into a distasteful grimace.

                                            >”I don’t know about you, sister, but I don’t trust the current sovereign of the Crystal Empire in the slightest. Frankly, I believe the Games this year are set to be pure-and-simple bloodsport, such is that unicorn’s character, and I would rather not have any of my little ponies engaging in the kind of brutality that entails if I can help it.”

                                            >After a shockingly long trek, the party reached a gigantic pair of red oak double doors on the opposite side of the room.

                                            >On one was a recessed and stylized Sun emblem, on the other a similarly-carved Moon.

                                            >Said doors denoted that they were, in fact, standing before the grand front entrance of the Castle of the Two Sisters.

                                            >Celestia waved a hoof at their entourage.

                                            >”Leave us, please.”

                                            >The uniform metal clanking sound of the guards saluting in unison rang out, followed by scattered clacking as the formation trotted back across the foyer.

                                            >Luna gazed up and down at the imposing wooden obelisks, as if trying and failing to discern why they were obstructing their path, and turned to look in quizzical disbelief at the other princess.

                                            >”Are we really planning on going outside in this maelstrom? Did he actually make a break for it??!!?”

                                            >That question wrung a bemused chuckle out of the older sister, who otherwise didn’t acknowledge it and instead placed a hoof on one of the doors.

                                            >”And regardless, even among all the sentient creatures I know, pony or otherwise, I can think of none better suited for this year’s Games…”

                                            >She grunted, pushing the slab of wood ajar with no small effort and letting the pounding din of the thunderstorm in, smiling calmly all the while.

                                            >”...Than the one who graced my neck with the cold touch of steel for the first time in nearly a century.”

                                            >The larger alicorn gestured at the opening to the smaller.

                                            >”After you, dear sister.”

                                            >Luna hesitated a moment, before hunkering down and taking a deep breath as if diving into a lake.

                                            >She trudged out into the elements, the cold waves of rainwater and bone-chilling wind instantly soaking her coat all the way through and forcing an involuntary gasp from her lungs.

                                            >Teeth chattering, she watched as Celestia followed, walking into the tempest as evenly as if she was on a stroll through the Canterlot gardens at sunrise.

                                            >And she, strangely, continued to walk, across the lowered drawbridge and well past the external moat.

                                            >She then stopped abruptly and turned around, head directed slightly upwards.

                                            >Her light pink mane and tail, in stark contrast to her body language, whipped wildly in the rogue breeze, giving the white mare the visual impression of a vengeful spirit emerging from the Everfree.

                                            >Dumbfounded, the indigo alicorn could only gawk for a few moments before hurriedly trotting to her sister’s side, turning and attempting to match her pose.

                                            >All she could see, however, was the vague and imposing blob of the castle.

                                            >”WHAT ARE WE LOOKING AT?!”

                                            >She shouted, even the booming volume of the Royal Canterlot Voice struggling to overcome that of the storm.

                                            >”WHAT, YOU CAN’T SEE HIM? HE’S RIGHT THERE!”

                                            >Celestia extended a hoof, pointing at what seemed only to be the infinite void of the cloudy night sky.

                                            >Luna squinted, her pupils dilating to their maximum extent, and was eventually able to pick out a lone object sticking out from the very top of the castle foyer’s domed roof.

                                            >It looked like, well, nothing in particular.

                                            >Just a plain stick poking out from the larger silhouette like a needle into the darkness.

                                            >”WAS THAT LIGHTNING ROD ALWAYS TH-?”

                                            >A bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, impacting somewhere behind the castle and briefly illuminating the object.

                                            >The shepherd of the Moon gasped.

                                            >That was no lightning rod.

                                            >Perched nearly 400 feet up, buck naked and balancing on the castle’s roof with a single hand, was none other than the creature she had been searching for so desperately a few minutes ago.

                                            >Anonymous, the human.

                                            —

                                            >’Balance’.

                                            >Whether or not one has ascertained the true nature of ‘balance’ in a physical sense provides quite a bit of insight into his experiences.

                                            >To one whose understanding of ‘balance’ extends only to a vague combination of core strength and center of gravity, the prospect of standing exposed and unclothed against a violent thunderstorm on one arm may have seemed outright impossible.

                                            >To Anonymous, who had been chewed up and spat out by the high seas repeatedly over the course of decades and hence emerged with an evolved comprehension of the concept, it was an idle task.

                                            >Liters of ice-cold water fell from the abyssal night sky every second, crashing into his nude form like a mighty waterfall, yet he didn’t so much as sway.

                                            >Scything wind threatened to rip the flesh clean from his aged body, yet he felt no chill nor any soreness.

                                            >Lightning seemed to strike harrowingly closer with every bolt, nearly blowing out his eardrums with the ensuing claps of thunder, yet he did not flinch.

                                            >He yawned widely, smacking his lips together a few times and blowing a stray strand of soaked gray hair out of his eye.

                                            >No worse than a sleepy spring morning in Hoorn.

                                            ‘That chambermaid was something else.’

                                            >He thought absentmindedly as droplets cascaded off his beard and onto the rooftop.

                                            >The still-fresh image of a rather plump servant mare with a dark green coat and straw-colored mane briefly flashed to the forefront of his thoughts.

                                            >’Spun Hemp’ or something to that order.

                                            >A somewhat plain mare by any definition, perhaps even what one might call ‘homely’.

                                            >But, well, it seemed to be the heavier ones with unremarkable faces that one had to watch out for.

                                            >Because God knows they could eat a man alive in the bedroom.

                                            >A twinge - just a twinge - of envy entered the man’s head, directed towards the unknown stallion that would surely make that mare his wife someday.

                                            >Various muscles in his lower body flexed involuntarily, their actions from a couple of hours prior still very much ingrained in their fibers.

                                            >It had been a good long while since he’d fucked like that.

                                            >Not since he’d last laid anchor in the Cape of Good Hope, at least.

                                            >His left hand, folded behind his back, idly clenched open and closed a few times.

                                            >Cape of Good Hope…

                                            >How long had it been since he’d last been, anyway?

                                            >Had to be close to 20 odd years by now.

                                            >A sigh that was equal parts forlorn and satisfied left the man, the whipping wind carrying away the small cloud of steam it produced.

                                            >Anonymous had never really planned to leave the ocean.

                                            >For him and many like him, the harsh reality (that he’d long come to terms with) was that he would be swallowed by it.

                                            >Whether to one harsh instant of a shipwreck or to the slow wear of salt and strain over time, there was never any question that he would end his career with, at best, a burial at sea.

                                            >A dreary outlook, indeed.

                                            >Of course, this was before the land of Equestria was even known to him.

                                            >Before he’d met the Sun.

                                            >He grinned unconsciously as he thought of the mare that had become, as the French merchantmen would say, his raison d’etre.

                                            >Now, it could be said that the ‘soul’ of Equestria in general lent itself to bringing out the best in its denizens, compared to the nations that the man was used to.

                                            >The natural world seemed to exist in almost perfect harmony with its intelligent populace.

                                            >Ponies rarely starved or fell ill, scarcely killed one another, and wandered freely from place to place without a care in the world.

                                            >In particular, mares fucked better than women ever could, and stallions never died for less than they were worth where men gladly would.

                                            >By human standards, it was a paradise of fantastical prosperity.

                                            >And the one who took Anonymous in, guided him through his acclimation in a land where he didn’t belong, and staunchly pulled his fate away from the grim embrace of the sea, was a perfect reflection of that prosperity.

                                            >The Sun herself.

                                            >She insisted she be referred to by a superficial name, of course, likely to dim her own intimidation factor to mortals like himself.

                                            >But internally, he knew her as the Sun, and the Sun alone.

                                            >To the Sun, the man owed his very existence.

                                            >She had forgiven his less-than-friendly introduction on the spot, taken on a role far below her station in holding his hand through his acclimation process, and even appointed him as an advisor and tentative retainer based entirely on his presumed ‘knowledge of naval and maritime affairs’.

                                            >Patience, sympathy, and generosity that could only reasonably be called saintly.

                                            >So when she’d summoned him and requested - the Sun, requested! - that he participate in some international competition between athletes on her behalf, he didn’t even hesitate.

                                            >His head perked slightly as he picked up the relatively muted sound of the castle’s doors scraping open over the torrential downpour.

                                            >Ah, that would be her, likely with the Moon in tow.

                                            >A strange presence, that one.

                                            >Were it not for their shared species, he would never have guessed that the two were ostensibly cut from the same cloth.

                                            >Nonetheless, the grin returned to his face.

                                            >”WHAT ARE WE LOOKING AT?!”

                                            >The question cut clear through the storm to Anonymous’ ears, such was the bone-rattling volume of the Canterlot inflection.

                                            >It nearly knocked him off-balance, as a matter of fact.

                                            >”WHAT, YOU CAN’T SEE HIM? HE’S RIGHT THERE!”

                                            >Despite being even more voluminous than her sister’s, the Sun’s voice was somehow… gentler all the same.

                                            >He allowed himself a gruff chuckle.

                                            >Of course she knew where he was.

                                            >He’d hardly taken laborious steps to keep his little post-coital ritual a secret.

                                            >”WAS THAT LIGHTNING ROD ALWAYS TH-?”

                                            >A terrifically close bolt of lighting struck just behind the castle, making the man’s hair stand on end.

                                            >He didn’t flinch, but was struck by a brief bout of lingering tinnitus.

                                            >Even so, he could practically imagine the Moon’s startled gasp as his naked form was illuminated by the heavenly bolt.

                                            >Though he could scarcely hear himself, let alone expect the royal sisters to hear him from hundreds of feet up over a raging thunderstorm, he felt that a vocal resolution was in order regardless.

                                            “I have taken quite a liking…”

                                            >He began muttering, his words a mere nondescript vibration to his ringing ears.

                                            “...Both to this beautiful land, and its beautiful mares.”

                                            >He could feel the warmth of the Sun’s gaze gracing him, inducing a rare shiver down his spine.

                                            “Thus, for the mare that has done so much for me, I shall conquer whatever trials lay before me at these ‘Equestria Games’, bringing honor to her name and nation…”

                                            >There was absolutely no chance that she could hear what he said next.

                                            >Just to be certain, he lowered his voice and waited for a clap of thunder to mask it.

                                            >Still though, he swore that as he uttered it, he could feel a slight glow of affirmation touch his back.

                                            >Another shiver.

                                            “... And her hoof to my hand.”

                                            —

                                            >In stark contrast to the harsh storms over the Everfree two nights prior, unmarred midday sunshine was the order of the day out on the vast Equestrian prairie.

                                            >From the thin, snaking form of the northward road running through it spread a veritable ocean of bright green in every direction, stopping only when it met the crest of a gentle slope or the dark blob of the cursed forest to the south.

                                            >That ominous mass of distant trees aside, the plain was almost TOO saturated, giving off the visual feeling of a richly-shaded oil painting more than a real, physical location.

                                            >Fresh raindrops from the passed rainfall clung to the long blades of verdant grass, forming glittering waves across the landscape as a soft breeze breathed over them.

                                            >This gave the land a distinct oscillating effect even when the observer held perfectly still,

                                            >Standing within it, one of a simpler mind might imagine himself to be trapped inside of the aether itself.

                                            >Princess Celestia held no such delusions, having actually been to an aetherial plane of some description herself, but was nonetheless mildly awed at the sight.

                                            >There was no rule forbidding the natural world’s beauty from matching that of the one beyond, after all.

                                            >She sucked in a slow breath through her nostrils, relishing the fresh aroma of rain-soaked soil as she raised her eyes skyward.

                                            >The princess was well aware that the Sun’s rays left nothing in their path untouched, even on the most overcast days or pitch-black of nights.

                                            >Even the Moon, much to her sister’s chagrin, was merely a conduit by which the Sun continued to grace the Earth when it was out of sight.

                                            >But on those kinds of days and in those kinds of places, when there wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the yellow tendrils of light visibly stretched all the way to the horizon through a sea of deep blue sky, the celestial body’s reach truly FELT infinite.

                                            >Celestia’s fur, pearly and brilliantly reflective though it was, couldn’t help but absorb the radiant warmth cast down by the divine object all the same.

                                            >A tremble of satisfaction worked its way to the tips of her hooves as a serene smile graced her muzzle.

                                            >The opportunity to relax under proper sunlight was certainly a nice change of pace.

                                            >Her mood instantly darkened a shade.

                                            >She understood the necessity of a nonstop trek through the Everfree.

                                            >Likely more than most others, as a matter of fact.

                                            >She knew of the wild unpredictability of the natural magics within, and knew that only the Castle of the Two Sisters - constructed inside the bounds of an irreplicable arcane barrier cast millenia ago by hooves unknown - held any refuge from the monstrous green inferno.

                                            >Nopony in their right mind wanted to spend any longer than necessary under that cursed canopy, not even an alicorn.

                                            >That being said, two full days trudging through that mess, restricted to a trotting pace by their earthbound entourage…

                                            >She twisted her neck around, looking over her withers at the humble roadside camp they’d made as day had broken.

                                            >A four-cornered tent stood in the center of a ring of lean-tos, around and in-between which milled sparse groups of guards, assorted nobleponies, and attendant staff.

                                            >The majority of the lean-tos were tied closed as their occupants took their well-deserved midday naps, and the few ponies still up on their hooves appeared haggard and rickety to put it lightly.

                                            >Atop the central tent waved a flag adorned with the crest of Unified Equestria, billowing lazily in the light wind of the day.

                                            >Peering at the simplistic image of her and Luna chasing each other in a circle around the world, Celestia idly wondered if bringing along a diplomatic entourage was really worth the trouble.

                                            >Had they been traveling alone, the two alicorns could have made it from the castle doors to the outer brush of the forest within 8 hours, tops.

                                            >Even with their Equestria Games participant in tow, being relieved of the requirement to foalsit a few dozen ponies who barely knew the route into and out of the Everfree likely would have cut a solid day and a half off of the grueling trek.

                                            >The princess let go of the breath she’d been holding, realizing that she was letting some of the resentment that she’d intended to leave at the forest’s edge build back up.

                                            >She had no cause to be frustrated any longer; they were out on the great plains with a generally straight shot to the Crystal Empire, and their little gaggle could mostly be trusted to take care of themselves from then on.

                                            >Still, she couldn’t entirely shake the shackles of mild irritation.

                                            >Finding success for the young diarchy in the Games ultimately hinged on the efforts of no more than three individuals, each with an exceedingly simple yet vital role to play.

                                            >Celestia would socialize, Luna would strategize, and Anonymous would win.

                                            >By comparison, the rest of their party (guards and servants excluded) mostly comprised minor nobles that simply had nothing better to do, likely sent out by their families in hopes of scoring effortless political clout.

                                            >Entirely unnecessary hangers-on that had no intention of being useful to her, in other words.

                                            >There was little the solar diarch disliked more than free actors butting in on an otherwise simple and elegant gameplan.

                                            >She knew that she couldn’t possibly reign in the multitude of ulterior motives swirling within the camp at that very moment no matter what action she took, and that any one of them could raise its ugly head and make a mess of things at the most inopportune possible time.

                                            >If worse came to worst, it could even potentially jeopardize the true purpose she had in mind…

                                            >She flipped her mane idly, rejecting that possibility the instant it crossed into her thoughts.

                                            >As far as Celestia knew, nopony in the world was privy to her true intentions for the Games, not even her own sister.

                                            >And if Luna didn’t know something, then it was supremely unlikely that anypony else did.

                                            >”Quite the sour expression you have there, Tia.”

                                            >A light gust tickled the back of the larger alicorn’s neck, and she whipped her head around just in time to catch the princess of the moon alighting gracefully on the grass in front of her.

                                            >”A sneer like that is liable to cramp your muzzle up.”

                                            >Celestia consciously straightened her mouth into a flat line as her sister chuckled and shook her windblown mane back into its usual bobbed style, pushing up the pair of dark quartz spectacles perched on her muzzle as she did so.

                                            >Silly things, those ‘sunglasses’ .

                                            >It was understandable for Luna to devise some kind of solution to her ridiculously photosensitive eyes, of course.

                                            >But her older sister couldn’t for the life of her see why she would go with something so much more complex and stupid-looking than a simple transparent cloth.

                                            >Perhaps she just LIKED the “dark bug-eyed freak of nature” look.

                                            >Celestia’s admittedly sour disposition lifted in an instant at the smaller alicorn’s goofy appearance, her lips curling into a light smile.

                                            >”Seems like somepony’s in a good mood. I trust you had a good time stretching your wings, then?”

                                            >Luna scoffed without a hint of sincerity, feigning haughtiness.

                                            >”Well, I would have preferred to do so under the stars instead of this horribly oppressive daylight, but I suppose it wasn’t a horrible flight, all in all.”

                                            >The older diarch played along, exaggeratedly prostrating and pretending to kowtow.

                                            >”Ah, my apologies, Your Highness. I shall lower the offending object for you posthaste.”

                                            >She held the ridiculous pose for a moment before her sister let out a loud snort, and the pair shared a short bout of amused giggling.

                                            >Luna waved a wing dismissively as her laughter died down.

                                            >”In all seriousness, it is a beautiful day for flying you’ve created here, Tia. After the past few dreadful days in that accursed forest, I was concerned that my wings might simply rot away at the joints and slough off my withers, and you’ve provided me quite the lease to use them again.”

                                            >Celestia accepted the unwarranted compliment with a simple nod and satisfied hum.

                                            >She had long given up correcting ponies that she was NOT, in fact, solely responsible for sunny days, and nowadays actually found the praise somewhat endearing.

                                            >The lunar diarch tilted her head slightly, a smile still gracing her lips but a hint of concern playing behind her eyes.

                                            >”So, if I may ask, what on your mind was causing you to pout so?”

                                            >The older alicorn briefly cast her eyes down, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to brush off her sister’s worried curiosity.

                                            >It was a hard feeling to explain, the particular kind of frustration she felt.

                                            >But maybe, of all ponies, Luna would understand.

                                            >”... Do you often miss the days of the Three Warring Tribes?”

                                            >It was the younger princess’ turn to pout.

                                            >Which, in Celestia’s experience, meant she MISunderstood something.

                                            >”It’s about our ‘baggage’, isn’t it?”

                                            >She craned her neck to peer emphatically at the camp behind the larger alicorn, then shook her head and sighed resignedly.

                                            >”Well I’m sure whatever they’re whining about THIS time is-”

                                            >The elder princess cut her sister off by holding up a wing

                                            >”Oh no, nothing so immediate. Most of them are asleep or otherwise too tired to be a bother at the moment. It’s just…”

                                            >She rubbed the back of her neck with the same wing, failing to find a concise way to word her thoughts.

                                            >”...It’s a bit more farsighted than that, I suppose. Walk with me?”

                                            >The sun princess gestured with a hoof in the opposite direction of the campsite, pointing out into the rolling expanse of grassland.

                                            >Luna put a hoof to her chin and scrunched up her muzzle, as if her answer wasn’t foregone, and nodded with an amicable smile after a brief moment.

                                            >Celestia returned with her own, already feeling her thoughts straighten out a bit, and the pair of alicorns set out at a leisurely pace to converse, no particular destination in their minds.

                                            >Neither of them were aware that they were practically beelining for the impromptu training field of a half-naked old man, fatigued and alone, putting on what might be considered a ‘performance’ for naught but the Sun that beat down on him from above and the waving grass he trampled underfoot.

                                            —